


How to Accidentally Become a Jaeger Pilot in 10 Easy Steps

by Avelera



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Arguing, Bickering, Comedy, Drift Compatibility, Explicit Language, Humor, Jaeger Academy, Jaeger Pilots, Jaegers (Pacific Rim), Kicking Kaiju Ass, M/M, Newton Geiszler is a Dork, POV Newton Geiszler, Stick Fighting, The Drift (Pacific Rim)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 13:15:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15001670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avelera/pseuds/Avelera
Summary: When one idiot grad student gets himself killed studying Kaiju, the world overreacts immediately and forbids anyone to access Kaiju at all who hasn't first gone through a certification process which is, at present, only available at the Jaeger Academy.So Newt does the natural thing, and joins the Jaeger Program just long enough to get his certification, with plans to immediately drop out after.This does not go exactly as planned. Largely because Hermann is there too.





	How to Accidentally Become a Jaeger Pilot in 10 Easy Steps

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IDoNotBiteMyThumbAtYou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IDoNotBiteMyThumbAtYou/gifts).



> This fic is a product of a very dumb idea that came to me about what amazing Jaeger pilots Newt and Hermann would be given their skill sets and just how OUTRAGED Newt would be that they were. Then it wouldn't let me go until I finished it. 
> 
> Special thanks to IDoNotBiteMyThumbAtYou for sharing a laugh with me and essentially beta-reading. 
> 
> Feel free to toss on the Pacific Rim soundtrack song "Physical Compatibility" in the section labeled: Physical Compatibility. It matches up rather well.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

**Step 1 - Have One (1) Idiot Grad Student Ruin Kaiju Studies For Everyone**

 

The event hardly should have made the news. After all, with the tens of thousands of people who had died in the wake of what was now the tenth Kaiju attack, one scientist failing to observe proper safety protocol and dying a slow, agonizing death should hardly have been a blip.

It only came up on Newt’s radar because it was the MIT team, the team _he_ should have fucking been on, because it was _his team_. And the idiot grad student was _his_ grad student, who wouldn’t have been fucking near the live samples if Newt had been there. And maybe in another world, Newt had been there, and Kaiju studies as a field would have flourished in academia, where he would have stayed the rest of his blissful life so long as that life wasn’t suddenly cut short by being stomped on by something the size of a skyscraper.

But in this world, he wasn’t there because he was laid up, by all the fucking things, with adult chickenpox. It had been hard enough to beg, finagle, and outright scam the US government into letting his lab go anywhere near the wreckage, let alone when one of the professors was contagious.

Most of said officials didn’t even take him seriously as a professor anyway at 25 years old. They kept turning to his ( _his!_ ) grad students who were admittedly older than him, ignoring the shrimpy kid with the unfinished sleeve tattoos and ok maybe he should consider buying a suit or something, that was on him.

So Newt had called in a favor with the head of his (current) department to sub in for him and gave his students strict instructions to _only observe_ and not ( _wink, wink)_ bring back any samples to study in the lab.

Fucking _Mike_. Newt scrubbed a hand over his eyes, which came away damp, and began to write his condolence letter to Mike’s parents. He wasn’t sure what hurt more, that Mike had died or he had died in such a _stupid_ way that would have been so easily avoided if Newt had been there. It would be a cold comfort to Mike’s parents that his death would probably be forgotten amidst all the misery.

At least, so Newt thought until he turned on the news.

 

**Step 2 - Have Idiot Bureaucrats Pass a Law**

 

… And that law said only officially sanctioned government or military personnel could handle Kaiju parts, in the wake of the tragic and horrific death of civilian graduate student Michael Abramson on national television. Because apparently, a photogenic twenty-something student dying horribly— _while pursuing his chosen field—_ was a _bigger_ outrage than the fact that if the public had its way and civilian academics couldn’t access the Kaiju for study, the whole _world_ was going to die horribly. 

Which meant that now the only way to be allowed within a hundred meters of any Kaiju samples was to take a certification course. And the only place currently offering was none other than the nascent Jaeger program. All civilian programs were to be shut down and all military programs rerouted to consolidate resources. There was rumor the program would be expanded to deal with demand in the coming years and allow for a civilian offshoot with a focus on cleanup and study. 

But for now, the only way to get near a fresh Kaiju body without being shot on sight was to either be very sneaky or to enter the Jaeger program long enough to pass the six-week certification program. 

This Newt complained about bitterly and at great length in his letter to his pen pal/crush, Hermann Gottlieb that night.

What he wasn’t expecting was Hermann’s response.

 

**Step 3 - Learn That Your Pen Pal/Crush Has Joined the Jaeger Program**

 

_… And I confess, Newton, I was astonished at the contents of your letter. While I agree that it is reprehensible to so limit the study of your field for bureaucratic reasons, this may be a blessing in disguise. I was only recently accepted myself for the program and may be able to pass along a recommendation on your behalf._

_There is a widespread feeling here that the scientists and the pilots may have to go their separate ways very soon as the program grows. Lightcap is already discussing the matter openly. You could wait, or join the program now and have some control over the direction…._

Hermann was there. In the Jaeger Program. Which, Newt supposed, wasn’t exactly a _total_ surprise. Hermann had made no secret of his desire to be an astronaut before K-Day. Which, all romance aside was an ideal field for people who loved working out and taking tests every day. Newt wasn’t so sure about the former, but if ever there was a brain that enjoyed a five-hour long mathematical proof the way some people enjoyed fun things like hobbies, it was Hermann Gottlieb, Newt thought with some exasperated affection.

There was a _thing_ between them. It was as yet an unspoken thing, but the words “my dear” had begun to creep into Hermann’s letters, and Newt had snuck in enough off-color jokes without being told off to officially consider their thing A Flirtation.

And Hermann was going to be in the Jaeger Program. If nothing else, Newt would have company. 

 

**Step 4 - Join the Jaeger Program**

 

That step, at least, was obvious. There’d hardly been any need for Hermann’s recommendation when Newt had the full force of MIT’s collapsing K-Sci department urging him on. Newt was fast-tracked and ended up on Kodiak Island just one semester behind Hermann.

Which was great, except…

 

**Step 5 - Discover That You and Your Pen Pal/Crush Hate Each Other On Sight**

 

There was a bar just off the campus of the Jaeger Academy, which was where Newt and Hermann decided to stage their first in-person meeting.

The next day, Newt would start orientation, and he was already getting the sick, sinking feeling of watching a bunch of jocks from the sidelines of gym class just looking around the Academy. Sure, he had six PhDs now and was a respected member of his field (mostly by people who hadn’t met him), but there was some part of him that would always be the shy nerdy kid who just wanted to talk about frogs and couldn’t run a lap to save his life 

Some things you never grow out of.

So it was a relief when Hermann showed up. He was thin, painfully so, and had a weird face, with too-broad lips and diamond-cutter cheekbones, but all those oddities all blended together to make a weirdly appealing whole. Newt’s crush flared painfully, but he kept it casual, real smooth. They’d talked for years before this, how bad could in-person be?

Really bad, apparently. 

“… Anyway, it’s only for six weeks. Once I’ve got my certification, boom, back to MIT where I can start lobbying to expand the certification program and get K-Science back from the jarheads,” Newt declared with a swig of his beer and a grin toward Hermann. 

“You’re… _planning_ to drop out?” Hermann said. He had been all shy reserve before, and it was so fucking cute it should be illegal for the things it did to Newt’s heart. But at those words an icy stiffness fell over Hermann’s features, what Newt would learn later was his version of barely-suppressed rage. Newt would also get to see pretty soon what not-suppressed rage looked like.

“Uh… yeah? We’re scientists, not soldiers. It’s the dumbest rule on Earth that only the military can get near these things. The certification program is a loophole as far as I’m concerned,” Newt said. “Frankly, I’m surprised _you’re_ planning to stick it out. Aren’t you one of the foremost experts on the Breach? Your code is in the Mark 1 Jaegers. Losing you would be an actual _legit_ blow to humanity.”

“Lightcap is a pilot, how could I expect to do any less?” Hermann retorted.

“ _Lightcap_ shouldn’t be there either! None of us should be there! We should leave this to the jocks and the flyboys. We’re more useful somewhere else!”

“But what if you’re successful at the program?” Hermann insisted. Newt’s eyebrows rose.

“ _Successful?_ Dude, I came here without a partner. I can’t run two kilometers without passing out. What do you mean _successful?_ I’m surprised they let me in the door!”

“The world is in peril, Newton. Right now the Jaegers are our only chance at destroying these creatures before they destroy us. How can you even consider joining the program with the intent to fail? Worse, having taken a spot that might have gone to some other hopeful!”

“Hey man, it’s not _my fault_ that some idiot destroyed my _entire field_ with the stroke of a pen. And Jaegers aren’t going to be the answer to _any_ of this! They’re never going to be enough to stop the Kaiju! Every second we’re training pilots is another that we’re not spending on figuring out what the Kaiju actually are or why they’re here. Don’t you get it? Every single one of these pilots is going to die for _nothing!_ ”

The bar went silent, and Newt had the distinct, and what turned out to be accurate, feeling that every eye was trained on him and those eyes weren’t friendly. 

“Uh, I mean…” Newt said intelligently, raising one finger to correct himself. Hermann rose to his feet, his expression pale with rage, and stormed from the bar.

“Hey,” a voice came from the back. A really _angry_ voice. “Isn’t that one of the new recruits?”

 

**Step 6 - Fail at Failing the Written Portion**

 

Newt had thought that when he showed up to orientation with a black eye and a sprained wrist from his first and only bar fight, that would be the end of it. Which would suck vis-à-vis the Kaiju Certification Program, but it might give him some ammunition to get the program exported back to academia where it belonged.

Except it turned out the first two weeks of the program were the written portion while recruits of different backgrounds were brought up to speed on the state of the art in K-Science and J-Tech. It was an introductory program at laughable best, as long as he failed everything except the Kaiju portions of the curriculum, he should be out of here in no time.

“Top marks, Geiszler,” A dispassionate voice came from over his shoulder and the teacher, Sergeant That Guy as far as Newt had bothered to learn, dropped Newt’s test in front of him.

“Uh, what?” Newt said and pulled up the exam, his eyebrows rising as he looked over his answers. “But… everything was so basic! I barely answered these at all!”

Sergeant What’s-His-Face chuckled, “I know you’re some kind of professor back home, Geiszler, but here at PPDC we do things a _little_ differently. We plan to use your exam answers as teaching material next semester. Ever thought about being a Marshal?”

Newt gaped.

It took a few hours for the sting of sheer _betrayal_ to wear off. By then, Newt had resigned himself to 1) the deep stupidity of his fellow classmates and 2) the fact that unless he literally wrote in crayon, he probably couldn’t bring himself down to a level where he failed the written portion of the Jaeger program.

Fortunately, there was always the physical compatibility test.

 

**Step 7 - Fail at Failing the Physical Compatibility Test**

 

“Most programs would have you start right away on combat training,” another officer said, who Newt might have also deliberately forgotten the name of. But this one was a lady, and she scared the shit out of him, so Sgt. Leung it was. “But here in the PPDC, Drift compatibility is the name of the game. In some rare cases, it can be increased with interaction between those who already have a high score, which is what we will be testing for today. You will be interacting with unpaired members from across the Jaeger Academy training program, so keep your mind open to the possibilities. Drift compatibility is not about friendship or love. Many Jaeger pilots don’t even like each other very much. This is about synchronicity, a bond that defies expectation. You are not looking for your next boyfriend. You are looking for your psychological match. Your equal.”

 _And we’re doing it by hitting each other with sticks_ , Newt thought and tried not to roll his eyes where Leung could see him.

The recruits were instructed to each get in line to receive their first matchups, which were determined based on the psych profile they had submitted with their application. If their first matchup didn’t demonstrate sufficient Drift compatibility, they’d on move to the next. The fights were short, but with over two hundred recruits ahead of him in line, they took all damn day. Newt hurt just watching them, but it also raised his spirits dampened by the fact he was probably going to fail out that afternoon. At least there could be no confusion over the fact he didn’t belong here.

And stick fighting, really? What the hell did that have to do with Kaiju studies? Newt filed this newest outrage at the back of his mind with the rest of his exhaustive and cuss-laden report about the stupidity of squirreling away K-Science behind PPDC doors. 

Furthermore, who could possibly be his match here? Drift compatibility was such a weird and uncertain art, but Newt could hardly imagine himself having anything in common with the other recruits. What would they even talk about? 

But then he got the folded paper with his matchup, and heard a cold and very familiar voice behind him say, “Dr. Geiszler.”

Newt sighed and hung his head. “Of course. Hermann.” 

“Still haven’t _dropped out_ yet?” Hermann sniffed.

“I’m workin’ on it,” Newt retorted. “You can’t really be serious about any of this, right? Stick fighting? Who did they match _you_ up with the first time, if you’re still here?”

Hermann stiffened, his eyes flicking back to a recruit standing in a parallel aisle to the two of them.

Newt blinked. Well, the guy was… big, that could definitely be said. And blond, with the body of one of those obsessive exercisers or a Mr. World contestant. You could break rocks on that jaw. “ _Him?_ ” Newt hissed. 

“We had 60% compatibility,” Hermann said stiffly, but if Newt didn’t know any better he’d say there was fear in Hermann’s eyes as he kept his back carefully turned from Mr. Mountain over there. “At least, we did before he nearly broke my hip.” 

“ _What?”_ Newt said and winced at a glare from Hermann to keep his voice down. A flare of the old crush was not what he needed right now, but at the thought of that _meat head_ hitting Hermann so hard with one of those sticks that it nearly crippled him, it chose that moment to arouse every momma bear instinct in his body. “And you didn’t quit the program _then_?”

“Drift compatibility is extremely rare,” Hermann retorted. “If Stefan and I have it on any level, it should be cultivated. He is precise and exacting in his way, and I can appreciate that. Besides, the world needs pilots.” But even as he gave this speech Hermann did not seem happy at the prospect. “And there are more recruits every year. One may come along with better compatibility. It was soon after the incident that I received your letter about your interest to join.”

“Oh, buddy,” Newt said in dismay. “You know I can’t stick around. This place isn’t for me.”

“I’m well aware,” Hermann said. “Nevertheless…”

“Hey, the nerds are gonna fight!” came a raucous voice from behind them and with a start, Newt realized they’d reach the front of the line.

“Joke's on you, asshole, I’ve never fought with one of these in my _life!_ ” Newt shouted back and then turned to Hermann. “Yeah, just take me out in the first five seconds, ok? You’ll be doing me a favor. Though, I swear, I’m not usually that quick,” he added with a wink. 

Hermann blushed, just a little at the tips of his ears, and it was enough for that stupid crush to do another flip in Newt’s chest. The letters had never let on that Hermann blushed. “The score only goes to four, we can have you back on your way in no time.” Hermann accepted his stick from the proctor, and Newt fumbled with his as he did the same, earning an unimpressed glance from both the proctor and Hermann. “I wish you the best of luck in your chosen field, Newton.”

They took their places on the floor across from each other, and Newt had never felt so small or stupid looking in his life as he did now in a tank top and sweatpants, bowing to Hermann across a martial arts mat.

“Yeah well, I hope you come to your senses and we get you back from the jarheads soon, Herms,” Newt replied.

Hermann’s nostrils flared in annoyance, and he gave a stiff bow. Newt had barely followed suit when he… well, the best word for it was _sensed_ it.

Hermann was going to want this over quick to give both of them the least amount of public humiliation. But he wasn’t going to be nice about it, because Newt had managed to piss him off _again_. 

Which was why Newt barely got to a seventy-degree angle on his bow before he was popping up again, just in time for Hermann to take a sweeping step forward, holding the stick with both hands at the bottom as if it were a sword.

“Shit!” Newt screeched and sidestepped. The wooden stick whistled by about an inch from his nose and hit the ground with a muffled curse from Hermann. Hermann spun and brought the stick around for a baseball swing at Newt.

The rest was just instinct. Newt couldn’t help but have seen _some_ of the stances of the other recruits, and the rest was just human anatomy, one of the building blocks of his first Ph.D. Ok, maybe the rest was actually animal hind-brain instinct to not get his skull _bashed in_ when Newt grabbed the stick at either end for the strongest possible shield, and caught the strike with the middle, dispersing the impact. The stick shook in his hand, the force of the strike shooting pain up his arms.

“You wanna calm down a bit, Herms?” Newt wheezed. There was no response, but when he glanced up Hermann’s expression was severe and completely intent on what seemed to be the desire to take off Newt’s head with a blunt object. “Ok, or not then.” 

At that point, he just started to run. The mat was about as small as his first apartment, and he couldn’t turn his back to Hermann without losing eyes on him, so Newt did a sort of stuttering crab crawl sideways and backwards, keeping Hermann at arm’s length and his own stick out before him.

Every once in awhile, Hermann’s stick would strike out like a snake’s tongue and with a tiny scream, Newt would either knock it aside or backpedal out of the way so the tip thudded to the floor. Sweat began to drip from Hermann’s face, and Newt didn’t dare take his hands off either end of the stick to wipe his own.

Beyond them, the test proctor held up two score cards that simply read 0 - 0.

They still read that what felt like an hour later. 

Newt was 100% certain he was going to pass out from lack of oxygen, but he could hardly stop when Hermann had gone dead silent since the fight began and came in for another rapid fire attack. Left, right, left. Newt blocked each one, swinging from side to side and for the first time in the fight, felt a little frisson of something that wasn’t total panic and might have been exhilaration. “Ha! You’re gonna have to switch up your tempo Herms! I can read you from a _mile_ away.”

“Indeed?” Hermann huffed, the first sound he’d made since the bow, and spun for an overhead strike that Newt brought up both hands to block. Except at the last second, like clockwork, he pivoted and brought the stick around in a sweep for Newt’s ankles. 

“Oh yeah, take down the short guy, I see how it is!” Newt snapped as with a short hop he jumped over the strike.

“Hitting your head was too much effort,” Hermann smirked. “I have to drop the stick too low.”

“Come down here and say that!”

“Kaiju g _r_ oupie.”

“Mathlete!”

“Disrespectful peon." 

“Snob!”

“You only planned to quit the Jaeger program because you knew you’d never make it,” Hermann retorted.

“Yeah well, you only joined it so daddy would love you!” Newt said and knew he’d hit a bit harder than he meant to when Hermann snarled and leaned so hard into his next strike that Newt’s hand went numb, which he barely got to appreciate because he had to dance through three more blocks so Hermann wouldn’t brain him. “Newsflash, Hermann, you’re already a genius! You don’t need to prove it by getting yourself killed in a tin can!”

“Our world is _dying_ ,” Hermann hissed. “Which you might notice if you stopped worshipping Kaiju long enough to look around.”

“Zero points for originality, you already called me a Kaiju groupie!” Newt retorted. “And I wasn’t done. You’re so caught up in trying to do everything, you can’t see the one thing you’re fucking good at!”

“Rich, coming from the indecisive imbecile who earned six P.hDs because he never learned how to finish a post-doc!”

“Hey, this isn’t about me! This is about you and your fucking anger management and your stupid inferiority complex and, apparently, your _goddamn_  daddy issues. See a therapist, dude!”

“Was amateur psychology one of your doctorates, Newton?” Hermann panted.

“I could have trained as an astronaut and figured out your issues,” Newt brought the stick over his head to block another strike from Hermann. Predictable. “Because you can see them from _space_.”

“Meeting you was the greatest disappointment of my _life_ ,” Hermann snarled.

“Yeah well, how do you think I feel?” Newt shrieked back. “I thought I was in love with you! But now I see you’re a pompous, judgmental, stuck up…”

“Says the arrogant, disorganized, disgrace to humanity and your field! Is that a _Kaiju_ tattoo I saw on your arm, Newton? Have you _no_ respect?”

“Way to focus on the _wrong_ part of that sentence. Jesus fuck, you’re an actual fucking robot, aren’t you? No wonder you want to ride in one of those things. It’s like going back to your home planet!”

“Why should I make any comment on what I already knew? Subtlety is not your strongest suit, Newton, and the fact you did not see that your feelings were returned makes me question your supposed social skills, so who is the _robot_ now?”

Newt paused, partially because he was going to pass out if he didn’t catch his breath. “You liked me back?”

Hermann snapped the stick forward, and Newt stepped out of the way without thinking. “Yes, and it was one of the greatest _humiliations_ of my life. Defend yourself!” 

Newt might have said something smart at that point but honestly, Hermann had a good point about defending himself. Where did this guy get all his energy? Newt’s arms already felt like iron bars attached to his shoulders, he could barely lift the stick anymore and just stuck to dodging. Hermann was so easy to read it was like watching him in slow motion anyway. Didn’t Hermann have _any_ new tricks?

“Yeah, well it’s a good thing I’m _out_ of here on the next bus home after this. You can keep your stupid Jaeger Program. You guys don’t own the Kaiju! They’re here for _all_ of us, and it takes some fucking balls to say no one else is allowed anywhere near them when they’re coming after us every day. And y’know what, Herms? They’re never gonna stop. They’re just gonna get meaner, and badder, and _better_ at killing us because you know what else? They’re adapting! Yeah! Enjoy _that_ bit of classified info that we sent to PPDC just before they shut us down. We’re _all_ gonna fucking die!”

“Why do you think I’m here?” Hermann said. He stumbled, completely soaked in sweat, and his arm shaking as he propped himself up on his stick, but the intent hadn’t faded from his eyes. “To stop them!”

“Well, so am I!”

It was only then they realized the whole room had gone silent.

“What’s everyone staring at?” Newt whispered as he slid to a halt.

“Oh no,” Hermann breathed. The stick fell from his hand to the thud against the mats. “Oh dear God, no. How long have we been fighting?” 

Newt took the question as at least a temporary peace offering, enough to take off his glasses and scrub the sweat out of his eyes before he glanced at the board. “Uh, thirty minutes? So what? We haven’t scored any points yet.”

“Oh… _fuck_ ,” Hermann pronounced.

“Wait, what? What am I missing? Hermann, what gives? Come on, we’re not done with this stupid test yet.”

“Newton, do you have any idea what is considered the greatest score, of five, between two fencing masters?” Hermann said and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“No, but I’m not even the _slightest bit_ surprised you know about fencing, the ponciest sport in the world. You fenced as a kid, didn’t you? Of course, you did, your dad was some sort of weird European aristocrat. I dunno, man, five to five?”

“Zero to zero,” Hermann said crisply. “Two masters would fence one another to a standstill, without either gaining a point. And you say you’ve never trained before?”

 “Uh, no, why would I? I can read you like you’re moving in molasses. You’re the most predictable, robotic, boring-ass son of a bitch in the… oh,  _fuck_.”

“ _Now_ he gets it.” Hermann rolled his eyes. 

“Wait, no. But that can’t be, right?” Newt pleaded and looked to the proctor for support. “We’re not Drift compatible, are we? I was supposed to fail!”

 

**Step 8 - Ace the Jaeger Program**

 

“A perfect _score_?” Newt whined as he opened the email with their results. 99.9% Drift compatible. The only reason the percentage didn’t go higher was because they’d be beating themselves statistically. “But I'm supposed to be a _scientist_ , not a Jaeger pilot!”

"If you wanted so badly to drop out, why did you not simply allow me to hit you?" Hermann snapped. 

"Because you were going to take my head off, man!" 

Hermann sniffed but pretty pointedly _did not disagree_ with Newt's statement, and went back to getting dressed for their training session. Which, oh yeah, they shared a room now. Because that’s what paired Jaeger pilot trainees did. And they’d been fast-tracked because of their "unprecedented" Drift compatibility as well as their scores on the written portion.

Which meant all day, every day, was just teaching them how to fight.

“Come now, Newton, we’ll be late for the sparring warmups,” Hermann said, and Newt didn’t think he was totally paranoid to detect a hint of sadism in Hermann’s enthusiasm. Newt groaned again.

“I’m in Hell. This is actual Hell.”

 

**Step 9 - Fail to Kill a Kaiju**

 

_(1 Year Later)_

 

There was a photo sitting on their shared desk when the call came in. It was of Newt and Hermann on their graduation day. Hermann was proudly but stoically holding his diploma at chest height, staring directly at the camera as if challenging the world.

Newt was bent nearly in half, the diploma held up to hide his face. 

“Geiszler-Gottlieb, you’re on deck!”

“Tendoooo,” Newt groaned and rolled over in his bed, incidentally bumping against Hermann’s shoulder. “It’s two in the fucking morning.”

“Yeah and this little lady ain’t waiting for you to put on your makeup. It’s go time, come on,” Tendo said over the intercom wired directly into _their fucking room_.

“Ugh, fiiiiine,” Newt whined. He rolled over one more time, incidentally flopping onto Hermann’s chest to deliver a deliberately sloppy good-morning kiss. 

“Mmph, Newton what are you _doing_?” Hermann groaned and squirmed beneath him.

“You sleep like a rock, dude. That was Tendo. Kaiju sighting. It’s on us,” Newt said and squawked as Hermann went from horizontal to vertical at a speed that defied the laws of physics. 

“Why didn’t you wake me sooner?” Hermann snapped and was already halfway to their closet before Newt could answer. Newt scrambled out of bed after him and nearly hit the floor face first when the sheets wrapped around his ankles. 

“There’s been literally point five seconds between when I heard and when I told you, Herms! What do you _want_ from me?”

“A little respect, Newton. This is our first Kaiju!” Hermann retorted, yanking on the flight suit onesie that went under all the ridiculous layers of armor they’d only ever worn in simulations. Pfft, as if _armor_ was going to help them if a Kaiju ever got that close. They might as well wear pajamas for all it would matter. At least then they’d be comfortable. 

“Sighting 200 kilometers off the coast of Japan, heading towards Tokyo,” Tendo shouted over his shoulder as the two of them raced into the control center. “You gentlemen ready for your first dance?”

“Affirmative,” Hermann said with a crisp salute.

“Yeah dude, we’re on it,” Newt yawned.

The simulations were starting to get boring at this point. Over forty drops, over forty kills, but none of it really _mattered_ , right? Real life couldn’t possibly be encapsulated in a simulation, no matter how much Hermann insisted otherwise. So Newt took risks, pummeled the thing to pieces, and mostly just hoped he did something stupid enough that he would still get kicked out and could somehow salvage his academic career.

So far, no dice. Just a lot of outrageously quick and creative kills that were becoming legendary within the Jaeger Academy, to Newt’s profound dismay.

“Nova Hyperion, ready in five,” Tendo announced.

Nova Hyperion wasn’t even supposed to be _theirs._ The hype of their stupid test scores had gotten Newt and Hermann launched over the heads of _way_ more qualified pilots. And worse, he _liked_ Yuna and So-Yi. They were the only other outed same-sex couple in their graduating class, and that’s just _solidarity_.

Nova Hyperion was a sleek and silver thing of beauty, _way_ better matched to Yuna and So-Yi's elegance than to him and Hermann. They should be in some multi-limbed monster putting lie to every assumption that two humans can’t figure out a six armed rig. Or better yet, in a fucking _lab_ where they _belonged_.

Instead, Yuna and So-Yi had been moved back to whenever the next Jaeger could be finished, and now the PPDC was calling on Newt and Hermann to protect a city of 30 million people. On their first deployment. 

The whole launch sequence was an exhausting show. Honestly, couldn’t they just put the head on from the beginning and have them step in on a lower level? But after that came the Drift, and the Drift was…

Wow, yeah. Newt never got tired of it. It was in the Drift where he and Hermann had finally _seen_ each other. It’s where all their rough edges and constant bickering had just _melded_ to make a logical whole that had always been missing. Not that they didn’t still bicker, constantly, but it was because they _were_ communicating, not because they were _failing_ to communicate. The Drift was where they were finally able stop letting things like their insecurities, their misunderstandings, and their heinously abrasive personalities from getting in the way. 

Oh, that and the sexual tension. They'd dealt with that too pretty soon after their first Drift.

After Newt woke up from sheen of blue—of twining numbers and flashing childhood memories and the feeling of _belonging_ that was the neural handshake—it was back to reality and the long haul from Osaka to Tokyo by air.

If the whole process wasn’t so involved, Newt would try to catch a few extra seconds of sleep on the commute, but with about thirty techs screwing him into his armor that wasn’t about to happen until he learned to sleep standing up. Hermann stood at attention the entire time because of course he did. The man was practically vibrating with anticipation.

“You’re gonna psych yourself out,” Newt muttered. “Come on, man. Just pretend it’s another simulation.”

“It’s not this time,” Hermann said tersely.

“It better be, or none of the training we’ve done is gonna matter for shit,” Newt pointed out and knew he’d scored an unwelcome point when Hermann swallowed nervously. “Come on, we’ve got this. What’s the category on this beauty?”

“Her name is Verocitor and she’s a Category Three,” Tendo’s voice came over the intercom. 

“Bad _ass_ ,” Newt said fervently.

“Your enthusiasm is unseemly, Newton,” Hermann muttered. “Try to remember when we’re on the Jaeger side here, hmm?”

“I’ll do my best, babe,” Newt said easily, just to get Hermann to squirm at the pet name in public, and tried not to think about how _this was it._ His first time up close to a living Kaiju. K-Sci was being rebuilt back in the civilian sector on the mainland, _without him_. But at least if they were careful, he might be able to send them back something _useful_.

Careful being the operative word.

 

“Don’t hit it yet!” Newt shrieked. 

“Shit!” Hermann cursed—uncharacteristically, the man was an unbearable prude—as Nova Hyperion jerked back mid-punch, knocking them off balance and only caught from complete collapse by the lower gravity of the ocean where they were half submerged. “What in God’s name was that about, Newton?”

“You’ll destroy the samples,” Newt whined. In his visor, Verocitor jerked away from the anticipated strike like she knew it was coming. The blow would have been an uppercut to whatever passed as her jaw, where the skeletal structure was hardest, and probably wouldn’t have left a dent except for a spray of Kaiju Blue into an already overfished ecosystem. “Wait! Just wait.” 

“What are we waiting _for_?” Hermann shouted back. It was a good thing he _had_ taken all those fancy fencing lessons because Verocitor drew her flipper-arm back for a haymaker that would have left them on the ocean floor if Hermann hadn’t taken over and nudged their multi-ton Jaeger a few inches to the left.

“I don’t know yet!” Newt snapped. The live feed filled his vision: Kaiju distance and weight measurements flaring across the interface, along with prediction models of acid, nematocysts, and other nastiness that could come flying out without warning. Newt had programmed it himself to avoid ugly surprises, and it was whirring along like a dream. Or at least his kind of dream, the kind that was always about two milliseconds from blowing up.

“Newton! She’s closing on the coast, we have to do _something_!” Hermann bellowed.

“And I could figure out what if you’d stop _shouting in my ear._ ”

 

**Step 10 - One-Shot Kill a Kaiju (Rinse, Repeat)**

 

“Hermann, _now!_ ”

With a curse, Hermann snapped to attention, drew back, and—

“There, hit it there, in the throat!” Newt shrieked.

—Drove Nova Hyperion’s fist straight into the membrane that puffed beneath Verocitor’s throat like a bullfrog’s vocal sac, puncturing it.

The air, which was probably ammonia-based from the Kaiju’s homeworld, exploded. With a gasping roar, Verocitor’s many eyes rolled back and Newt and Hermann braced as one, fists coming up to get ready for her next strike—

— And with a strangled wheeze, Verocitor collapsed and sank into the water. Dead.

They were fifty kilometers outside Tokyo Bay, without a trace of Kaiju Blue in sight, and with a nearly undamaged Kaiju corpse.

“Holy shit,” Newt and Hermann breathed in perfect unison.

 

* * *

 

Fortunately, Newt did, _eventually_ , make it back to academia.

Unfortunately, this was ten years later, after one very-near Drift with a Kaiju brain until Hermann had smacked him upside the head. But after a couple of battles up-close and in-your-face with the Breach, both Hermann and Newt had happened upon the same realization almost simultaneously within the Drift.

Only a Kaiju could pass through the Breach.

So someone would have to convince the Breach that they were a Kaiju.

(Newt didn’t even like to _think_ about the alien intelligence involved with building such a specified interdimensional portal, and it would be years after the war when he finally had enough time and Kaiju samples to realize, _Holy shit_ , _they’re_ _clones_.)

“ _You’re_ the pilots who figured out how to close the Breach?” his newest grad student gaped. She was pretty cool actually, about sixteen, and as precocious as Newt had been at that age, and he wasn’t afraid to say it.

“Weeeeell, I _guess_ you could say that when a Breach specialist and a Kaiju specialist love each other _very much_..." Newt began before Hermann cut him off with a smack on the arm.

“Ms. Namani, what my husband means to say is that having a shared mind between a Kaiju specialist and a Breach specialist had many unprecedented benefits, one of which was a quick synthesis of all information shared between us. Without the Drift, it might have taken far more extreme measures to reach the same conclusion. So I do hope you will not take this information as a slight against your intelligence. It is already an unnatural and unforeseeable occurrence.”

“The Drift?” Namani frowned.

“No, I meant Dr. Geiszler’s brain,” Hermann said dryly, and barely flinched at Newt’s light elbow jab to his husband’s ribs.

“Ok, sure, but that brain meant you guys had a legendary record! _Twenty kills_ , most of then one-shots before the Breach closed,” Namani exclaimed. “That’s fucking amazing!”

“Language, my dear, you're beginning to sound like Dr. Geiszler. He may be an example in some things, but certainly not this,” Hermann said crisply and elbowed Newt in the side in return. “Newton, show your face. Our kill record is nothing to be ashamed of. Furthermore, your strategy of focusing on Kaiju weaknesses instead of simply pummeling them into submission advanced your field _much_ further than you could have had you remained in a lab. Have some pride.”

“I wasn’t even supposed to _be there_ ,” Newt groaned into his hands.

**Author's Note:**

> **Thank you for reading, I do hope you enjoyed! If so, I thrive on feedback and would love your thoughts!**
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> A couple fun facts about this fic:  
> \- I read one source (though I'm not sure if it's fanon or canon) that said Hermann's limp came from an injury sustained at the Jaeger Academy. There's a conceit in this ficlet that by joining the program, Newt prevented Hermann from continuing to work with Stefan, who eventually injured Hermann permanently. It's hinted at, but I thought I'd clarify here.
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> \- The idea of a civilian academic science being relegated and regulated to be military-only is a real phenomenon and based on the Crypto Wars of the 1990s. Check it out, if you're curious. 
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> \- The idea of Amara Namani being Newt and Hermann's grad student in a happier timeline is a homage to IDoNotBiteMyThumbAtYou's fic "In An Effort to (help) Save the World", which you should totally read because it is dimension-sliding, Newt-recovery meta awesomeness!
> 
> I'm currently drowning in Newt/Hermann love over on my Tumblr blog. If you'd like to check it out, you can find my Pacific Rim content [here](https://avelera.tumblr.com/tagged/pacific-rim).
> 
> You can also help by spreading the word of this fic by reblogging the Tumblr post announcement on my blog [here](https://avelera.tumblr.com/post/175113490070/how-to-accidentally-become-a-jaeger-pilot-in-10).
> 
> If you would like an alert for when I publish original novels and short stories, you can sign up [here](http://eepurl.com/dnzuV1).


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